Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Night has fallen by the time we make it into town. Most streets we pass down are lit only by the windows of houses. Near the center of town, we find the main thoroughfare, Rynor avenue. The houses give way to businesses and bureaucratic offices here. Oil lamps hang on posts at regular intervals, filling the air with their soft yellow light.

Most buildings here are dark and empty but three of them are still aglow with life. First, we pass a general store, Kellerman’s. The sign on the door says they are closed but one of the second floor windows is still awake. A hundred yards down the avenue is a sleepy 24-hour tavern. I can hear glass clinking and the low rumble of conversation. The sign indicates that this place is called The Last Rail.

Across the street and a few doors down is the last lit up building. This is the one we are looking for. The sign over the door reads, “TRPD- Honor, Valor, Peace.”

The woman at the front desk is leaning on her elbow, boredly thumbing through what appears to be a romance novel. She glances up at us but doesn’t set her book down, “How can I help you?”

Sidhion steps up and presents his badge, “I am Sidhion Sundermane acting on behalf of the State Militia.”

The woman’s eyes go wide.

“There’s been a terrible accident with the train we took into town. Three fatalities, minor injuries to ourselves. We need a crew to inspect the cave-in and recover the bodies.”

Now the woman furrows her eyebrows, “Train?”

“Yes, we came by train.”

“No..” The woman looks terribly confused.

I decide to save her from this buffoonery. I lean over the desk so our eyes meet. She’s still floundering when I speak, “Go and get the guard-captain for us. That’s it. Off you go.”

The woman readily disappears into the office. Sidhion gives me a look, “You know that was very rude, the way you spoke to her.”

“She was just gawping.”

“Yes but a train crash can be a big tragedy. People are allowed to be shocked.”

I shrug.

We are soon taken upstairs and into a cramped little office. The room is tidy to a fault. Seated behind a utilitarian mahogany desk is an orc woman, tall, broad and bedecked in the standard-issue armor pieces of the town guard. Her speech is very matter-of-fact, “You’re the Militiamen Mayor Metzker sent for? I’m Captain Bradur.”

“Yes and there is an emergency in the train tunnel into town.”

Bradur leans her head to one side, “What are you talking about?”

Sidhion visibly deflates as the wind is knocked out of his sails. “The.. Train..”

“Are you confused? Two Rocks doesn’t have a train.”

“Well the Militia doesn’t know that, apparently. We traveled by rail here,” Walter looks dazed by this conundrum.

“You couldn’t have come by train here. The line’s been blocked for decades.”

“What?”

“Yes, it was a terrible accident at the time. Just when the crews finished digging the tunnel through Mt. Thorn, there was a rockslide. Closed both ends of the tunnel and no one wanted to risk reopening it. It was lucky no one was inside when it happened.”

Now my mind is whirring. I remember sitting on a train. It was my first long-haul ride. Then the crash. Then we walked for hours. Bradur interrupts whatever thought I was coming to.

“Anyway, I’m sure you’re here to discuss the case..”

Sidhion tries one more time, “But the train accident-”

“Yes, a tragedy. I appreciate your interest in the town’s history but we have work to do. The mayor wanted to be present for our in-person brief but obviously he’s gone home for the night. I’ll send word along that you’re here but it’ll be best to come to his office first thing tomorrow morning.”

I’m trying to focus on Bradur but something keeps tugging at my mind. Is there an inconsistency? Or do I just get a bad vibe from her? Every time I feel like I can give form to this thought, it disappears like smoke. In these situations, it is best to let the thought come back when it is ready. Surely, I’ll remember what was bothing me.

“I had the boys clean out the old precinct and set it up for you. The town outgrew it but it’s just fine for the three of you.” Bradur drops a single key on the table. She slides it back when Sidhion reaches for it. “One moment. I have one more thing to say to you.”

“We’d be glad to hear it!” Walter smiles brightly.

Bradur looks dourly at the three of us,”I want you to be careful about how you conduct your investigation.”

"You don't think we're capable?" Bradur and I lock eyes. We exchange looks of pure animosity.

"I think you're capable of plenty. That's exactly the issue. I've heard how militiamen work and I won't be having it."

"What exactly is your issue with militia procedures?" Sidhion can sense the tension and steps in.

"I know the state lets you trample around anywhere with impunity. Arresting and executing people on no evidence at all. I want you to know that you're in my town. And I will enforce the laws of this town no matter who breaks them."

I turn up my nose at Bradur. "Then I want you to know something too. Just because you're the guard captain doesn't put you above suspicion. Your boss called in a militiaman because only someone with a militiaman's authority can get the job done."

Bradur bristles at my comment. "Just because you have a badge doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."

"Captain, you're a woman of the law. I'm sure you're familiar with the term obstruction?"

Now Sidhion grabs my shoulder and tugs me backward. “Come on now, we’re supposed to be working with the guard.”

Walter gives Bradur a wan smile, “Captain, I understand your concern,” then he turns to Sidhion and me. “Why don’t you two start walking to the precinct? I think I can set the Captain’s mind at ease.”

Without waiting for my word, Sidhion holds my shoulder and takes me along with him out of the building, all the while talking my ear off about manners.

---

 

The old precinct, previously abandoned in favor of new construction, sits just off the main thoroughfare of Two Rocks, on Canary Lane. It is a two-story stone building. The only thing that sets it apart from the houses and businesses surrounding it are the metal bars protecting every window and the engraved words over the door frame, “Honor, Valor, Peace.”.

The key jams in the ancient lock and takes several minutes of jiggling to get unstuck. The door whines as it is forced out of retirement. The stale, flat smells of must and moth balls come wafting through the open door.

The interior is nothing to write home about. The bottom floor is open concept. One side of the room is populated by a row of desks, one behind the other. A dry, desiccated desk plant hangs limply over the edge of one. The other side of the room, beneath a flight of rickety stairs, is taken up by a simple holding cell. One try of the bars proves that the door is locked tight. At the back of the room there is a grand fireplace, tall enough for me to stand in without hitting my head. There is already firewood stacked neatly beside it.

Sidhion coughs, "This place is disgusting."

"Not as bad as some of the places we've been," Walter grins at his companion.

"It’s still well below standard. What a miserable state if we're expected to clean the place up before we even start working.” I run a finger along a desktop just to inspect the level of filth here. Surprisingly, there isn’t any dust. Someone had the decency to wipe up before our arrival. “Let’s check the living quarters then. If it’s anything like down here, we’re in for a difficult assignment.”

“Dibs on the top bunk!” Walter lets loose a raucous laugh.

The top floor of the precinct is much more diminutive. A short hallway stretches from the stairs and terminates at the far end of the building. Three doors of varying distances apart are to the right. The first leads to what was once a break room, now finding a new purpose as a kitchenette. The second is a tiny interrogation room, complete with a shackled table. The last was clearly once a separate office, owing to the heavy cherrywood desk pushed unceremoniously into the corner. Now it houses three smallish, but blessedly new, beds.

Walter helpfully tosses my luggage trunk onto the bed nearest the door. “See, this is high class right here. Fresh hay, laundered sheets, no leaks in the roof, beautiful.”

“Not even private accommodations,” I scoff.

“You should be grateful it’s a private building and not an inn.” Sidhion sits on the farthest bed, “Bad enough we have to restock on clothes.”

“Oh, you didn’t grab your things from the train?”

Sidhion just scowls at me.

“Hey, hey, if we’re gonna work together, we have to get along. We could be here for weeks and I want peace when we’re off the clock.”

Walter’s words seem to resonate with Sidhion, “Listen, Owen, we all had a hard day. I wasn’t as kind about your situation as I could have been. And I’m sure you’re still recovering from shock and said things you didn’t mean. Let’s start over.”

I’m not sure how Sidhion came to disapprove of me but there’s no harm in a clean slate. “Sure. We can start over.”

“Okay. I’ll re-introduce us. I am Sidhion Sundermane. As you may have noticed, Walter and I are mercenaries hired by the Militia. We’re both sailors by trade and I’ve served under Captain Walter’s flag many times. I’m a good hand with healing magic and Walter is a strong swordsman.”

“So neither of you are detectives?”

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” Sidhion raises an eyebrow.

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“Well yes but..”

Walter laughs, “Don’t tell me the tales of militiamen being the best of the best is untrue!”

“I’m good at my job!” I can feel color rushing to my face.

“No need to get your panties twisted, little buddy. I’m sure you’ll do just fine. You big important detectives need good friends who can do what you can’t.”

Sidhion and Walter look at me expectantly. I readjust my tie in an effort to reassert my professionalism. “Ahem, well, you mostly have the measure of it. You’ve both heard I am Owen Goldenfist, of the Haven Goldenfists. I’m a detective but my specialty is in arcane forensics. Perhaps more importantly, I am a diviner.”

“You can see the future?” Walter looks amazed.

“It’s not so clear cut. The future is written in the night sky. I study the language in the positions of celestial bodies and read what I can.”

“Still! You find whatever star says ‘this guy did it’ and we get a fat bonus for findin’ ‘em quick!”

“Well in theory that could..”

Walter slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close. The cold metal of his breastplate presses onto my cheek. He smells of seasalt and rose water. “I like you, little buddy. You’re gonna solve the case like this,” he snaps his finger, “And that killer won’t know what hit ‘em!”

He’s a fool, surely, but at least Walter is a complimentary fool. His display even makes Sidhion crack a smile.

---

 

The mayor's office is modestly decorated. A simple oak desk rests in front of a wall of green velvet curtains. The left wall is lined with wooden file cabinets. Mayor Metzker, an old halfling man, stands to greet me and my companions.

"Gentlemen, thank you for coming so quickly. I do hope your passage over the mountains wasn’t too strenuous. And coming all the way from the capitol, you made such good time!”

Despite their friendliness, Mayor Metzker’s words fill me with a dread I cannot quite name.

Walter looks confused but finds his mental footing, “Oh yeah, the walk wasn’t overly strenuous. You keep the roads out there in tip-top shape, you do!”

“Glad to hear it. Now, onto business,” The mayor continues, “I know the Militia isn't usually concerned with small town murders but this.. This is different."

"Different how?"

Mayor Metzker looks expectantly at Captain Bradur, beside him, "Bradur, if you would?"

"The victim is Panril Gaelmorne. He was a clerk at Kellerman's General Store. Six days ago, he was found disemboweled in an alley next to Kellerman’s. We almost chalked it up to an animal attack but the coroner ruled it a homicide."

"Yes, that's when I put in a call to the Militia for backup!"

Bradur bristles at this, "Against my advisement."

"Y-yes but!" Mayor Metzker clears his throat, "While Two Rocks' finest are amazing at day-to-day policing, I fear this may be beyond their capabilities. They are excellent peacekeepers but finding a killer who can do.. that may prove too dangerous."

Bradur's face is sour. She watches intently as I write down her and Metzker's statements. I can tell she's leaning over just to get a look. I catch her eye and she looks away.

Sidhion pipes up, "Where is the body now?"

"The coroner's office is at the new precinct. Down the stairs from where you came in last time."

"And the scene, was it preserved?"

"It's been under constant surveillance since the body was discovered. No one has touched it. We've also identified three persons of interest. First is his boss, Phineas Kellerman. The second is his coworker, Patt Blue. Last is his girlfriend, Elaine Mayes."

"I remember their details are in the brief. Are there any other details that might have come to light after asking for our help?"

Bradur scowls. I'm a little surprised because I thought she was scowling before. "Mayor Metzker has forbidden us from investigating any further until your team has their look."

"Then we'll have a look pronto so you can get back on the case." Walter gives Bradur a smile and a wink. She doesn’t look at him.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, maybe if the killer comes in and confesses to you, you can pass them along to us."

Bradur stiffens up and nearly takes a step forward. Mayor Metzker grabs her arm and steps between us. "Yes, yes, I know your working partnership will be most beneficial to both sides. You lot," he looks at me, "will take the lead on the investigation and my boys," he shoots a look at Bradur, "will support you in whatever capacity you need. Understood?"

"... Yes, sir."

With Bradur brought to heel, I relax into a placid smile. "Of course, mister mayor. We will call on your guard to assist in any capacity we think they can.”

---

 

The coroner’s office carries an odd yet familiar chemical smell. It's strong to the point of making me a little dizzy. Dr. Madeline, an elven woman, leads my companions and me down a row of what appear to be stone sarcophagi sunken into the wall. She carries with her a small wooden box.

“I wasn't sure if you wanted to look at the body or possessions first,” she tilts the box, “So I brought this down here too.”

“A wise decision,” Sidhion nods and takes the box from her hands. He finds a nearby table and begins to rifle through. “Not much here.”

Walter leans over Sidhion’s shoulder. “Nuthin’ out of the ordinary for a store clerk, at least. Pencils, notebook, pocket knife, coin purse..” Walter takes a piece of paper and inspects it closely, “Aw, and a photo of his girl.”

“Odd, I guess we can rule out a robbery.” Sidhion lifts Panril’s coin purse which jingles slightly.

“I’ll write that down. Doctor, will you show me the body?”

"Of course. I've preserved him and can keep it that way for as long as you need." She leads me to a sarcophagus whose side is marked by a small glowing rune, "Poor fellow's in here. Brace yourself. It's gruesome."

Dr. Madeline traces a finger along a segment of the rune and the sarcophagus comes to life. Levitating of its own volition, it slides forward, revealing its lack of a lid. The remains of Panril Gaelmorne are, indeed, perfectly preserved as if he had been killed mere hours ago.

"I've never seen magic of this sort." My attention is momentarily captivated by the rune and magic imbued into the stone.

Dr. Madeline blushes a little. "Yes, I developed this method of preservation myself with funding from House Rynor. It helps a lot of people have time to say goodbye. And also.. this."

Panril's body is difficult to imagine put back together. The pieces are laid out approximately where they belong. The left leg is disconnected at the knee. His chest is torn open at the sternum and all his ribs are laid out to bear. Several recovered organs are resting next to the torso. The shoulders and hands are scratched generously and the neck has a very clear bite taken out of it. Next to the man's skull is his severed jaw and an assortment of loose teeth.

Walter's jovial spirit collapses under the weight of Panril's viscera. The color drains from Sidhion's face. I am not so affected. Even as a child, I witnessed far worse and I am all the better at my job for it.

"What's your assessment, doctor?"

"It's an odd one. The bites and scratches suggest an animal attack. The final cause of death, however, was blood loss."

"Not disembowelment?"

"Look at the wounds here at the chest cavity and leg. I didn't clean these off."

Now that she has drawn my attention to it, the picture becomes more clear. A man torn apart would surely bleed more than this. "So something drained his blood before tearing him to shreds."

"Precisely."

Now I lean over the sarcophagus and look closer at the remains. Something about Panril's organs catches my eye. Something about them is wrong, not fitting into the prospect that an animal could have done this. Then it hits me. All of these organs are torn from their places, yes, but all of them are intact.

"This couldn't be anything but an intentional murder. And not a random attack either. But would a killer really stop to play around with their victim's organs?"

Sidhion recovers his manner but remains on the far side of the room, keeping Panril outside his line of sight. "I certainly hope not. I cannot countenance the idea that a crazed psychotic can sit around playing with blood and organs."

I shrug, "At least not out where someone could discover them."

Sidhion looks at me like I have a second head.

I move on from it, "Pray that whoever did this only did so as a poor attempt to disguise their intentions. It bought them about six days.”

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